


Sinners and Saints

by Rainia_Nytewolf1



Category: The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: M/M, Mentions of PTSD, Sibling Incest, Sorry Not Sorry, mention of suicide, nothing terribly graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-24 20:47:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20020780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainia_Nytewolf1/pseuds/Rainia_Nytewolf1
Summary: Drabbles based on the fanfic100 challenge.





	1. Chapter 1

Prompt 011 - Friends

Rating/Warnings - PG, for brief of violence

They had been friends first. Met on the streets of downtown Tulsa, when a couple Socs tried to jump Dallas. Tim simply happened to walk by and helped him beat the two boys. When Dally made a snide remark, the two of them began a fight of their own only to end up as friends a few minutes later. No one understood it because hoods like Tim Sheppard didn't have friends. Since that day though, they had been buddies and nothing short of death could tear them apart.

Prompt 069 - Jealously

Rating/Warnings - PG, for some language

Tim swears he's never hated a girl more in his life. Sylvia, Dally's latest conquest, hung all over him and it made Tim want to punch the girl. Dallas was his, damnit. Shaking his head, Tim wonders where the hell that thought came from. He can't possibly have feelings for another guy, let alone Dally.

Prompt 022 - Death

Rating/Warnings - PG, character death

"Dally's dead. Shot by a bunch o' cops last night."

Tim swears his heart stops and starts in his chest as the words leave his sister's mouth. Dallas, dead? No... he won't believe it. He wouldn't just leave Tim like that, let alone be shot down by some punk-ass cops. Angela is still talking but he can't hear her, lost in a spiral of denial and loss.

Prompt 032 - Sunset

Rating/Warnings - G, none

Johnny wanted him to do what? Dally stared at Ponyboy as though he was nuts. He shrugs non-commitedly before stalking off, feeling Pony's eyes on him as he walks away.

"You want to do what now?" Tim asks, confusion warring with amusement marking his tone. Dallas glares at him, not wanting to repeat it again. He shrugs, muttering something under his breath before reluctantly nodding and agreeing to watch it with him.

Later, they sit and watch the sunset from Tim's roof.

Prompt 065 - Healing

Rating/Warnings - PG, fluff and language

Tim is leaning back against Dally's chest, his nose killing him from being broken again for the third time. The hospital had wrenched it into place again but it still hurt like a fuck. Even though he's in pain, he can't think of any place he'd rather be than curled up with Dallas.

024\. Choices

Rated - T or M

Warnings - Suicide, mention of character death

Life wasn't worth living now that Dallas was gone. He couldn't look at anything without memories overcoming him. The bed beneath him held too many memories of him and Dally but that didn't matter right now. The gun is shaking in his hands but it's his choice. Closing his eyes, Tim brings the gun to his temple. Cold, unforgiving metal touches his skin. His finger tightens on the trigger and he knows no more.


	2. Chapter 2

Prompt 020. Her

Rating- PG.

Warnings - M/M kissing

Pairing - Steve/Soda

Steve had always wondered what Soda saw in Sandy. Rumors were abound about her but Soda either didn't care or just ignored them. When she left, knocked up by some other guy, Soda had still wanted to marry her. Then the letter came back. Unopened. Soda had broken down and cried, locking himself into his and Pony's room. Steve had to almost break the door before Soda opened it and let him in. "You'll never leave me, will you?" Soda asked, gripping Steve's shirt in his hands.

"No. I'll always be here for ya, bud." He replied, opening his mouth to continue only to have Soda kiss him frantically. Somehow, Steve found himself kissing his friend back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In cannon, Soda dies in Vietnam but I wanted him to have a happy ending damnit

Home

Summary- Soda comes home from Vietnam, and home to Steve.

The creak of the screen door causes Steve to whirl around, startled, fists going up almost on reflex. There, in his army greens, stands Sodapop. The grey-green eyes of his sometime lover look haunted, almost broken but otherwise nothing's really changed. The duffel bag in the other man's hand drops with a soft thud and before Steve can say a word, the other man is in his arms, shaking. He relaxes and embraces the younger man, rubbing his back soothingly, and whispers over and over, "You're home now. It's ok."

Sunrise

Summary- Tim wakes and contemplates his lover's looks in the early morning sunrise.

Bright sunlight hits Tim square in the face and he wakes with a glare at the offending light. His head pounds slightly at the motion and he fumbles with the curtain. A shifting beside him causes him to pause and he glances over at Dallas, still asleep beside him. The sunrise warms the light blonde hair of his lover, giving him an almost angelic quality. Tim smirks to himself as he scratches dried sweat and cum from his stomach. Dallas would likely punch him if he knew Tim thought he looked like an angel in the sunrise.

Too Much, Not Enough

It was too much and yet not enough, never enough. Dallas is moaning like a wanton whore beneath him and it's the most beautiful sound Tim thinks he's ever heard. "Say it, Dal," He pants, leaning over the younger man. A hard thrust and suddenly, the flood gates open and Dallas is begging, pleading just like Tim wants. Smirking in his trademark predatory manner, he complies with the younger man's pleas and fucks him hard and fast, until they're both seeing stars.

Touch

After the war, Soda comes home a broken man, like so many others. A car backfiring makes him freak and think he's back in the jungles of 'nam. The nightmares cause him to wake his brothers with his screams and when they touch him it makes it worse. Yet, when he's with Steve, it's nothing like that. The soft comforting touch of his lover and best friend let him know he's home, he's safe. The demons that haunt him from the war are banished at the other man's touch. Soda's never loved being touched so much.


	4. Chapter 4

How

Dallas isn't sure how it happened. They'd been friends, and sometimes enemies, for years. Then on one hazily remembered night, both drunk off their asses, they'd even become lovers. Pretty soon, it wasn't just when they were drunk, but when they were sober too. No strings, no emotion, just pure animalistic sex that left both men bruised and bloodied, rougher on each other than they could ever be with a female. It was insane how good it was and god, always left them both wanting more though they'd never admit it to the other. He doesn't know how it went from being no emotion to this. He doesn't know exactly when he fell in love with Tim but he did.

She

Contrary to popular belief, Angela Sheppard isn't stupid. She knows the marks Tim bears on his neck, back and chest aren't from some girl like he bragged to his gang when new ones would appear. She knows all too well who made those marks on her brother. She hears them sometimes, whenever the house is quiet, which is rare and hears Tim's old mattress squeak and squeal. She's found herself watching them, covertly, making sure neither of them are watching her. She's seen the longing look Dallas flashes at Tim's retreating back, betraying a vulnerability that makes her heart ache. Once, long ago, she wished he would look at her like that. Now she knows why it was never her, and knows she can never compete with her brother.

Sound

When Soda came back from the war, the sounds stuck with him. A car backfiring on the street was enough to have him thinking he was back there, gunfire whizzing over head. A plane flying over caused him to duck, fearing for his life, as he remembers the bombs falling all around him. Johnny's parents screaming across the way made him remember the screams of the dying soldiers, his buddies. People protesting make him want to hide, their fierce words and taunts pierce him the way all those bullets could never do. Late at night, he holds his pillow over his ears, unable to bear the sounds anymore.

Honest

Tim was a liar and he knew it. Curly had once told him he doubted Tim could even be honest with himself. That was a lie; Tim was always honest with himself. If you can't trust anyone else to be honest, you should always be honest to yourself, he figured. Now, he's finding out the hard way that lying to yourself only drives you insane. He's been lying to himself since this thing with Dallas started. Lying and saying he'll never fall in love with the other hood. Lying and saying he's not jealous when he knows the other man has been with a variety of females. They fight one night, about all the girls Dally's been seeing. Dallas yells, screams, cusses wanting to know why Tim even cares. For once, Tim is honest when he tells the other man he loves him.

Lovers

Steve doesn't reckon he's ever had a lover before. Sure, he's had sex and plenty of it. To call any of them his lover just seemed out-and-out ridiculous. Lover implied you loved them and he hadn't really loved any of them. He said it to the girls he was dating, trying to get in their pants and those words always made them give in. Then, when Soda came back from 'nam, he moved in with the Curtis'. One day, it happened. He and Soda fell into bed together and God, if it wasn't the best sex either of them had ever had. As they lay there, naked, breathless and covered in sweat, Steve knew. He finally had a lover.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Dally/Johnny fic

"Pony knows."

I'm almost asleep when Johnny's voice penetrates the fog of my brain. Hank Williams is droning on about something downstairs, and I can hear Buck singing along drunkenly to the chorus of female laughter. I rise up on my arms and turn to meet Johnny's dark eyes, unable to comprehend what I'd just heard. "What was that?"

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows reflexively, before he repeats himself. "Pony knows. About us, I-I mean."

I can almost feel the blood drain from my face and I guess I must look furious, for Johnny looks panicky. He sits up abruptly, the sheet falling to his waist and revealing his naked chest. Bruises are slowly fading along his ribs, and I have to fight the urge to go kill his bastard of a father. "I-I didn't tell him, Dally, I swear! W-we fell asleep in t-the lot the other night and –"

"Wait, wait," I tell him, sitting up and looking at him more closely now. He's pale and shaking, like he expects me to beat the tar out of him. Who does he think I am? I'm Dallas fucking Winston; I don't give a shit what anyone says about me. He stutters to a halt, still watching me warily. "You fell asleep in the lot? What the hell were you thinking?"

Johnny stares at me, clearly surprised that I'm more upset about him falling asleep in the vacant lot than about Pony finding out about us. Fuck it, if the kid knows, he knows. If there's one thing I can say about the kid, he won't say shit about what goes on between me and Johnny. "We didn't mean to, we was just talking and we both fell asleep." He can tell I'm not satisfied with that answer, so he continues. "Pony woke me up when he woke up, and told me to come home with him. He told me you'd kill him if he let somethin' happen to me."

Well, well, well, the kid does have a brain. He's right, too. I'd have beat his brains in, Darry or no, if he let something happen to my Johnny. "Go to sleep, Johnny." I finally tell him, settling back down on the slightly lumpy mattress that I called mine when I stayed at Buck's.

It takes him a moment but then he settles back down beside me, rolling onto his side to face me. "You-you're not mad?" He ventures after a moment, blinking at me in the darkness of the bedroom.

I sigh, flopping over onto my back and dragging him over to me. Johnny resists briefly, before finally settling himself against my chest. His breath is warm against my skin and though I'd never say it out loud, I love the feel of him against my body like this. "Fuck no, he ain't gonna say nothing. If anything, at least he'll keep an eye out for ya for me," I tell him, curling my arm around his shoulders.

He smiles against my chest and relaxes before he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep. As soon as I'm sure he's asleep, I press a kiss to his forehead before following him into sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sodapop comes home from the war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try to be as sensitive as I can when dealing with anything related to victims of PTSD as well as Vietnam veterans. My grandfather served two tours there and was lucky enough to come home, unlike so many others.

"YA BABY KILLER!"

The hateful words are screeched at Soda and he flinches, hitching his duffel bag further on his shoulder. Words had never hurt so much, not until he came home from war. Boot camp had been hell, but the war… that was worse. He shudders at the memories of blood and bodies and keeps walking. He'd made it back home, but so many of them hadn't. His shoulder aches from the weight of the duffel and the wound that had finally gotten him sent home. If he couldn't shoot, he was useless to Uncle Sam and the bullet he took in the shoulder had successfully ended that.

He wonders briefly is Darry or Pony will even recognize him anymore. They'd cut his hair when he got to boot, and it has yet to even start growing out. His boots thud dully on the tile of the airport and he just keeps walking, avoiding the stares and the muttered curses. All he wanted was to go home. He pushes open the doors leading outside and the dry heat of Tulsa hits him full in the face. He'd never thought he'd miss the dry heat of Oklahoma, but compared to the humid jungles of Vietnam, this is heaven. A car backfires and suddenly, he feels like he's back in the jungle being shot at.

Heart pounding, he whirls around wildly, looking around in a panic as he begins to hyperventilate. There are people staring at him like he's crazy, and maybe he is. Soda doesn't even know anymore. He slowly begins to calm, and studiously ignoring the whispers and not so polite stares, he makes his way to the nearest taxi. The cabbie opens the trunk without a word, taking note of the uniform and looking at him sympathetically. Tossing his duffel in the trunk, Soda rubs his aching shoulder and gets in the back seat as the cabbie closes the trunk and gets behind the wheel. He simply nods when Soda tells him the address, moving out into traffic and leaving Soda with his memories.

Steve didn't look up as he heard a car pull in the drive, figuring Two-Bit finally got his car fixed and will be bounding into the Curtis house any moment. He hears the door of a car open and close and then hears it pulling away, which finally makes him look up. The door opens and he almost can't believe it. "Soda?" He breathes, staring at his best friend in surprise. Grey-green eyes find Steve and as their eyes meet, it's like a dam breaks. Soda drops his bag with a sob, and between one breath and the next, Steve is standing before him, holding him as he breaks down. Heart wrenching sobs that make Steve want to weep for his best buddy and all he can do is hold the other man as he cries. "It's okay, buddy," he whispers soothingly, rubbing a hand up and down Soda's back. "You're home, bud, it's ok."

The tension slowly begins to drain out of Soda and eventually the sobs turn into hiccups and finally stop. Steve isn't even aware they've somehow ended up on the floor, so concerned with holding onto Soda that it doesn't even seem to matter. "S-s-sorry," Soda chokes out after a moment, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his uniform.

"It's alright." Steve tells him as he rises, holding out a hand to help the other man up. "Does Darry know you're home?"

Soda shakes his head weakly. "No, I just wanted to come home," He replies bending to lift his bag when Steve stops him.

"I got it man. You look like you could use a week of sleep, bud." He tells Soda, finally taking a second to really look at his friend. "Why don't you go pass out and I'll call Darry?"

Soda reluctantly nods and Steve embraces him tightly for a moment. "I'm glad you're home," He whispers before letting him go. Soda simply smiles at him before heading to the bedroom he used to share with Pony.

Steve watches him go and waits for him to enter the room before heading to the kitchen where the phone is hanging. Picking it up, he dials the foreman that Darry's been working for and waits as it rings. The supervisor snaps at him at first and then when Steve explains the situation, the man puts him on hold as he hollers for Darry,

He taps his foot on the floor as he waits until he hears Darry's voice on the other end. "What's wrong, Steve?"

"It's Soda, Darry. He's home."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darry/Pony incest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was done by request

Darry is still awake when he hears his bedroom door quietly creak open. The light they always leave on in the kitchen turns his brother into a shadow but he already knows which one it is. "I'm sorry, Pony." He breathes after a moment of silence, turning his head to look at where his little brother is standing in the doorway. The younger boy just nods, not quite trusting his voice just yet. Pony slowly shuffles into the room, making sure to shut the door behind him, before walking quietly over to Darry's bed.

"'s okay," He replies finally, absently rubbing a hand across the cheek that his brother had smacked earlier when he and Johnny came home from having falling asleep in the lot. Both Soda and Johnny had stepped in, Johnny protesting loudly that it hadn't been Pony's fault. He had tuned out their words, stunned by the fact that his brother had actually struck him.

"No, it ain't."Darry denies quietly, shaking his head and moving over to make room for his brother. The bed dips briefly and for a moment, they both pray that it doesn't squeak too loudly. Pony hesitates for a split second before settling down beside Darry with his head on his brother's bare chest. Not hesitating, Darry puts an arm around his brother's shoulders and pulls him in close, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You know I didn't mean-"He begins but is cut off by Pony looking up at him.

"I know. I really should've been more careful, especially with Johnny," Pony admits with a sigh, cuddling gratefully against his brother's warm body.

For a moment, Darry is completely thrown by Pony's words. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Pony stiffens imperceptibly against his brother. "Swear you won't say anything?"

"Course, Pony, you know you can tell me anything." Darry agrees quietly, hugging his brother tightly.

"Well, see, Johnny and Dally… they're like us," Pony finally reveals after a moment, glancing up at his brother's face.

'Like us? What like brothers? No, that's impossible, what does he –'Darry thinks for a moment and then it hits him. Pony just stares at him, not elaborating further. When his brother finally realizes what he meant, he nods at the look Darry gives him. The older boy swallows convulsively, not sure what to say. "They're lovers, aren't they?" He finally manages, unable to believe what he was saying but when Pony nods.

"Yeah," Pony replies quietly, staring at the wall next to the bed. Johnny and Dally could be open about it around the gang, if they chose, but he and Darry… that was another story all together, especially considering the fact that he was still technically a minor.

Noting that Pony has suddenly gone silent, Darry looks down at him and notices the far off look on his brother's face. Pony was thinking too much again, judging simply by the look. "Pony, you know I'm not ashamed of us, right?" He finally queries softly, putting a hand under his brother's chin and meeting each other's eyes.

The younger boy nods quickly, but Darry shakes his head, knowing he was lying. "I couldn't care less if the whole world knew. You may be my brother but I love you as more than that. If you want, I'll tell the whole gang tomorrow about us."

That startles Pony out of his reverie. "You don't need to do that." He hastens to say, not wanting to know how the gang would react or Soda for that matter.

"Are you sure? Cause I will, if that's what you want." Darry is serious, Pony can tell by the look in his eyes.

"Naw, I don't need that." He replies, propping himself up on one elbow to be able to look at his older brother. There's barely enough light for him to see but Pony knows Darry's body in the dark. He knows exactly where to touch, kiss or lick in order to get his brother begging. "Thanks for the offer though." He tells him before bending down and meeting his brother's lips in a kiss.

People would say this was wrong, and that they shouldn't be doing this. They were brothers, he was a minor, and the list would go on and on. Darry couldn't bring himself to care. To him, what went on between him and Pony was the only thing that felt right. As long as he had this, he didn't need anything else and as Pony slowly moved lower along his body, Darry didn't care about anything else in the world but the two of them in this moment.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soda/Pony incest. Nothing too graphic

They're lying together as usual in the darkness of their shared bedroom when Soda breaks the silence. He'd received the letter he sent Sandy, returned and unopened. "Maybe it's better this way," he muses softly, mostly to himself as Pony is lying next to him unmoving so he assumes his brother is asleep.

Pony stares at the celling, wide awake but not wanting to say a word. He, for one, had been happy she'd took off, glad to have his brother back to himself for once. When they'd started becoming more than brothers, it had made things difficult, not to mention extremely awkward. Sandy had never been mean to him, always going out of her way to be nice whenever she was at the Curtis house. Still, the knowledge of what he and Soda did always liked to creep up on him when she was around. The bed dips as Soda shifts to lie on his side facing Pony. Unable to resist, Pony turns his head and meets his brother's gaze.

"I know how weird it had to have been for you, being around her," Soda tells him, smiling crookedly at the thought.

He doesn't know Pony thinks and doesn't realize the words have actually left his mouth until Soda looks at him questioningly. Blushing in the dark, Pony tries to avoid his gaze but his brother grasps his chin and forces their eyes to meet once more.

"What'd you mean?" His brother asks both curiosity and concern mingling in his tone.

"Y'know, since we've started…" and here Pony blushes even redder, thinking wildly that his face is probably so red he's probably glowing in the dark.

Here, Soda nods, finally truly understanding what it must have been like for his brother –no, lover- to have to see him with someone else. They'd agreed when they started messing around that Soda had to keep dating, or it would look weird if he suddenly stopped dating Sandy. Pony had agreed, saying no one really expected him to be dating at fourteen, especially considering how focused he was on getting through school. "I'm sorry baby," Soda tells him gently, pulling Pony into his arms and kissing the top of his head.

Pony does his best to shrug it off but he can't help be somewhat appeased by the heartfelt apology. Even though they hadn't started having sex yet, Soda asking him to wait at least another year, they'd done plenty of other things. "It's alright; I know why you had to do it."

"I'll make it up to you, Pony, I promise." Soda tells him, hugging his brother close to him in the dark.

Eyes made dark by the blackness of their bedroom glance up at him and Pony leans up and kisses his brother. When he begins to respond, Pony deepens the kiss purposely. Soda pulls back after a moment, breathing ragged and shakes his head. "I told you, we should wait." He breathes, well aware of his now pulsing arousal.

"You said you'd make it up to me." Pony replies, a teasing lilt to his voice as his hands wander to the waistband of Soda's underwear. "So make it up to me."

Soda hesitates for a brief second; knowing full and well he can't really deny his brother anything before nodding his agreement and meeting his brother's lips in a kiss once more. As hands run across warm bodies, the last coherent thought Soda has is, "Why'd I bother waiting?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Bob/Two-Bit. AU

Bob Sheldon flipped open his phone once more, sighing in defeat as he sees once more that he hasn't missed a call. He should know that, considering he'd checked his phone not five minutes ago. The girl bartending walks by, sliding another bottle of beer to him as she whisks away his latest empty. She simply nods in response to his nod of appreciation, busy with another guy further down the bar. Tapping out the last cigarette in his pack, he lights up before crushing the empty package. "Hey, man," a familiar voice says from behind him.

He turns only to be met by the familiar sight of his best friend. "Hey, Randy," he replies, trying not to let the other boy see that he'd gotten his hopes up. Of course it wouldn't be him, and he doesn't even know why he let himself get his hopes up.

"Is something wrong?" Randy asks, genuinely concerned. It wasn't like his friend to drink so much, at least, not anymore. "Got girl trouble?

"Yeah," he admits, trying not to let his buddy see how messed up he is. God knows he can't admit what it really is. It's not a girl who's got him so messed up, but a guy. Not just any guy either, but a greaser. Man, Randy would probably have a stroke or something.

"You want some company?" his buddy asks awkwardly, not sure what to say or do.

"Nah, man, I'm good," Bob replies with a shake of his head.

"Alright man, give me a call if you want to talk," Randy tells him, knowing when to back off. The two men shake hands, Bob agreeing to call if he feels like talking and he sighs again, turning back around to face the bar. An ashtray had suddenly materialized and he glances at the woman behind the bar who raises an eyebrow at him, glancing down at the cigarette in his hand. Half of it had turned to ash already, which he flicked off into the ashtray before taking a drag. Fuck, this shouldn't hurt nearly as much as it did. Chugging his beer, he motions to the bartender who makes her way over. "Ya need something stronger, darlin'?" she questions, her southern drawl thick as she glances at the now empty bottle.

"Yeah," he agrees, pushing the bottle away, glancing down at the phone he'd left on the bar. Still no phone call and it shouldn't surprise him or upset him as much as it does. The woman sets a jack and coke before him and moves away.

Two-Bit had never wanted to admit their relationship to anyone, while Bob had wanted to finally come out. Sneaking around and making excuses about some girl had slowly started to wear on him and when he'd finally given an ultimatum, Two-Bit had flipped out. The greaser told him flat out that there was no way, regardless of the fact that the two toughest hoods in Tulsa were obviously fuck buddies. His little gang didn't care about that, but god help if he let it slip he'd been sleeping with a Soc.

He knows he's at least buzzed as he finally goes to leave the bar, the bartender having called a cab for him and promising she'd make sure his car didn't get towed overnight. Bob doesn't realize he's given the cabbie Two-Bit's address until he's stumbling up the walk. "You're drunk as hell," the voice is slightly accusing and more than a little annoyed, but to Bob it's the best sound he's heard all night.

The greaser had stepped out onto the porch when he'd seen headlights, and had just stood there as Bob weaved his way up the walk. "Yeah, and it's all your fault," he slurs, glaring blurrily up at Two-Bit.

"And how do you figure that?"

"Because, because you don't wanna tell anyone 'bout us!" Bob yells, swaying slightly as he tries to focus on the other boy.

"You wanna know why I don't wanna say nothin'? It's cause you and your buddies jumped one of my buddies! I don't wanna see your ass get killed for that!" Two-Bit yells back, voice rising and finally cracking at the thought of Bob getting killed in revenge for jumping Johnny all those months ago.

This shuts Bob up and he can feel himself sobering as the other boy's words sink in. He'd forgotten all about the kid they'd jumped, not even stopping to consider that he might be part of the gang of boys Two-Bit hung around with. "Ah, fuck…" he finally says, the knowledge hitting him like a ton of bricks.

Two-Bit came down the steps and looked him dead in the eye. "Tomorrow, when you're sober, if you're serious about this, I want you to apologize to Johnny."

Bob blinks at him, totally confused for a second before he understands what the other boy is getting at. "So, if I apologize, we can go back to how things were? I can't do that, man, I can't continue hiding."

"Did I say anything about hiding? No. If you and your buddies apologize for what you did to Johnny, we can start moving forward," Two-Bit replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Alright, I can do that," Bob agrees with a nod, feeling his gorge rise as the alcohol rebels in his stomach.

Two-Bit sighs and grabs the other boy by the arm and begins leading him up to his house, glancing around to make sure the neighbors hadn't heard them arguing. Suddenly, Bob stumbles away and proceeds to empty the contents of his stomach in Two-Bit's yard. The greaser makes a face but steps back until the other boy finishes. Bob groans in disgust and stumbles away from the pile of vomit, nearly knocking Two-Bit over in the process.

The greaser, long since used to doing this for himself, grabs Bob's arm and leads him inside. He'd make sure Bob upheld his end of the bargain and then they'd see.


End file.
